Jessica Conaway
Stories (56)
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"Halloween Kills" is a Love Letter to the Franchise. Top Story - October 2021.
After 43 years, 121 on-screen kills, billions of dollars in merch sales, and one very unfortunate movie starring Busta Rhymes, Michael Myers has come back bigger and badder than ever in Halloween Kills.
By Jessica Conaway4 years ago in Horror
A Halloween Playlist for Adults Who Don't Play
Here's the thing. I don't play around when it comes to Halloween. I could write a long, nicely worded essay detailing my spooky origin story, but that's not really why we're here. Just know that in my real life, I am the go-to Queen of Halloween.
By Jessica Conaway4 years ago in Beat
The Most Devastating Thing a Teacher Ever Said to Me. Top Story - September 2021.
2009 was a very bad year. At the beginning of February, I’d been unceremoniously laid off from a job I loved and spent the next nine months unemployed, gravely depressed, and slowly developing a methamphetamine habit. With each rejected resume came a new layer of self-hatred and self-destructive vices. I barely recognized myself.
By Jessica Conaway4 years ago in Confessions
A Memo to My Dog, Who is Kind of a Slacker. First Place in EmPAWyee of the Month Challenge.
TO: Nurmal "Buddy" Conaway RE: Your Job Performance Dear Nurmal, It has come to management's attention that your work performance has become sub-par since your last review, and I would like to address these issues in order to better maximize your full potential and ensure a successful future with the company.
By Jessica Conaway4 years ago in Petlife
Capital S, All Italics
There is no greater punishment for a life lived poorly than moving to the suburbs. I believe Socrates said that. Or maybe it was one of the Kardashians. I don’t quite remember. What I do know is that we have been living in this neighborhood for 336 hours, and I am convinced that I must have done terrible, unspeakable things in a past life to deserve this torture; this Saab-driving, dinner party-hosting, PTA-fundraising torture. The Suburbs (capital S, all italics, of course) is where corporate careers and former homecoming queens go to die. And death comes slowly; preceded by a seemingly endless loop of pumpkin spice lattes and idle gossip.
By Jessica Conaway4 years ago in Fiction
Vic and Bobby
It’s cold here. He’s surprised that he’d forgotten how cold it gets this early on the East coast. Of course, in the past decade, he’s forgotten a lot of what used to be important. He wishes, just for a fleeting moment, that he still had that god-awful Marlboro sheepskin coat he used to wear, and he chuckles at the thought of it.
By Jessica Conaway4 years ago in Fiction
Bull Market
It’s different it’s different it’s different. It’s just a meaningless mantra that shatters your reflection in the bathroom mirror as you hold the razor to your cheek and wonder what if. You don't even look like you anymore because you’re not you anymore. Some time not so long ago you started this descent into the unseen void, little by little, and some time not so long from now you will disappear completely. Not that it matters. The world is burning, and we’re all headed to Hell together. Or so you’ve been told.
By Jessica Conaway4 years ago in Fiction
I Think Vocal is Breaking Up With Me.
I thought we had something special. I really did. I mean, we had a whirlwind romance, Vocal and I. It started in February when I wrote a little thing. Then I wrote another little thing. And then the THIRD little thing I wrote went straight to the front page. I was a Top Story, baby! Woo hoo!
By Jessica Conaway4 years ago in Journal
Mrs. Madison's Garden
Today’s the kind of thick August swelter that makes you feel like you stepped into a bathtub as soon as you walk outside. It isn’t even lunchtime, but sweat’s already rolling in rivets down the small of my back, and my hair feels limp and sticky against my forehead. I wish for the millionth time this summer that I was a boy so that I could run around with my shirt off, but Delia’s mom says that’s “unbecoming of a lady.” If it was up to my mom, we’d be running around the yard in only our Underoos “like the wild women of Borneo!” but my mom isn’t around right now, so I’m stuck at Delia’s house.
By Jessica Conaway4 years ago in Fiction
When the Fat Lady Runs
The inevitable happened three weeks ago. It wasn't even 10 am, but it was already over 90 degrees. I knew that would make my Sunday run tough, but I was really struggling. My knee was a bit twitchy, and this new route was literally all hills. I just couldn't get back into a good headspace as I slowed to a walk and turned my music all the way up. I was very frustrated and ready to call it a day.
By Jessica Conaway4 years ago in Motivation
